Lexapro Hellscape
by sunrow
Summary: Stucky. It soon becomes apparent that Bucky and prescribed medications do not mix. This is the story of why. Sequel to Funfetti Ascension.


_Sequel to Funfetti Ascension, so this will make a bit more sense if you read that first. Again, it's based off a comment on a tumblr post and I just had to write it. It's a bit longer than the first one and now includes Stucky! I hope you all like it :)_

* * *

Bucky hadn't been going to therapy for a while, but after his shitty life choice involving the Funfetti Cake Batter Martini, everyone agreed that it'd be better for him to go back. And, it turns out, Bucky had anxiety _and_ a tendency towards bad coping mechanisms. Nobody was shocked.

He was prescribed Lexapro, and because of his serum-enhanced metabolism, was given a higher dose than normal.

"Do I really have to take this, Steve?" Bucky whined, pouting at the bottle of medication on the kitchen bench. Maybe if he glared at it enough it'd spontaneously combust and he wouldn't have to take it. "I know the Funfetti turned out to be a horrible idea, but are meds really the answer? I promise to make better life choices and shit. I do."

Steve smiled fondly but shook his head. "Your therapist is one of the best in the country, Buck. If she thinks you should take the medication, then you should." He slid the bottle closer to Bucky, waiting with a surprising patience for Bucky to take it.

Instead, Bucky's pout deepened into a childish frown. "But I don't wanna!"

"Suck it up, princess." Steve opened the bottle and took out five of the pills, holding them out for Bucky. "You'll be sleeping in the spare room until you take them."

Bucky's eyes widened comically. "You would withhold sex from me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, fuck." Bucky groaned, took the pills, and swallowed them dry. "I expect a good dicking tonight, Rogers."

"Let's just see how you get on with the medications first."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Bucky's heart rate started to pick up. He ignored it, at first, but soon he started to feel short of breath and knew it was the meds.

"I feel weird," he told Steve while they cuddled on the couch.

Steve nuzzled into his long hair. "Weird how?"

"Like I've just gone for a really long run." He sat up, and shook out his limbs, liking how they felt. "I feel like I could take on the world."

"That's great, Buck." Steve grinned at his boyfriend.

Bucky eyed one of their coffee table books, the one titled Places You Need to See Before You Die, and stared wistfully at the page it was open on, showing some picturesque mountain. "I could eat that mountain."

"Wait, what?" Steve sat up as well, following his gaze to see the picture. "Oh, my God, Bucky, no!"

"Bucky, yes!" Bucky laughed and grabbed the book then danced away from Steve with it. "I'm gonna eat the fucking mountain!"

Then he ripped the page out of the book, rolled it into a ball, and shoved it in his mouth.

"Bucky, no!"

Steve was too late, Bucky had already chewed and swallowed the large ball of paper and was grinning like a maniac.

"Shit, Steve, my heart is beating so damn fast. I feel so weird, but good, but weird." Bucky's flesh hand has started to shake and the rest of him seemed jittery as well, almost vibrating with energy. "I gotta go."

"That's not a good idea. Bucky. Don't leave." Steve rushed after him but Bucky was too fast, already in the elevator before Steve could get him. "Shit, Jarvis, don't let him leave the tower."

"I've already notified Sir of the situation, and he believes it's best if Mr Barnes doesn't have the opportunity to damage any of his property," Jarvis told him, synthetic voice tinged with regret. "Once he is out of the tower, I think it would be best if you go after him."

Steve was going to give Bucky, and then Tony, a piece of his mind.

* * *

Bucky lost all sense of time as he wandered the streets of Midtown, Manhattan. The people passed him by in a blur, his eyes unable to focus, and he was uncaring of the fact that he was barefoot and wearing sweats. A man in a suit bumped into him and yelled something that Bucky couldn't quite understand, but he didn't quite care to know either.

His skin thrummed with energy and there was a strange buzzing in his chest that wasn't quite comfortable, but he ignored it and continued on with his journey to an unknown destination. A destination that turned out to be a parking lot.

He had a flashback to the time he woke up in a waffle house parking lot, but a quick look around showed him that this one was for a Target. It was almost completely full, but there wasn't anyone around to notice him.

Until there was.

"We meet again, James."

Bucky spun around to find a bald man in a wheelchair approaching him. Though he was sure he'd never seen this man in his life, Bucky felt as if he knew him, and the word 'God' sprung to mind. Was this man supposed to be God? Seriously? A man in a wheelchair? Bucky was suddenly, irrationally, angry.

"Don't make me fight you, man." Bucky shook his head sadly, suddenly sure that if this man didn't leave then he'd have to fight him. "Don't make me do this."

The man - God - looked amused. "Nobody is making you fight me, James."

"But I can make you fight someone."

Bucky turned in the other direction to see another man, yet again familiar, and his brain supplied 'the Devil'. He couldn't move his metal arm all of a sudden, and fear began to creep in.

"What're you doing to me?" he demanded, glaring at the Devil. He didn't know how he knew that this guy was doing something to his arm, he just did.

"Nothing… yet." The Devil grinned and suddenly Bucky's metal arm slammed into his own face. "Oh, be careful James!" His arm collided with his own face again. And again. And again. "You really must stop hitting yourself."

"What. The. Fuck." Bucky tried to stop his arm but he couldn't. The hits weren't hard, thankfully, but they would definitely leave a mark if it went on any longer.

But it stopped when there were suddenly a pair of strong arms around his torso, pinning his own arms to his sides.

"You wanna tell me why you were hitting yourself in the middle of a parking lot?" Steve whispered into his ear, sounding more amused than he should in such a situation.

Bucky relaxed against Steve, glad the ordeal was over. "The Devil made me do it."

"Oooookay then." Steve decided to think about that later, and just needed to get Bucky home and safe.

And Bucky? Well, his body was starting to feel heavy, like his limbs were made of lead, and the strange buzzing in his chest had started rolling into nausea. And when he turned back, he didn't tell Steve that God and the Devil were happily waving goodbye to him.

They were looking forward to seeing him again.


End file.
